I hate it when

I write myself notes at night that I can't read in the morning. There is something on my list that says 'Dheuntime' I have no idea what that is.

If you missed it

Late Night with Conan O'Brian aired their final show last night. Like many, I started watching Conan in the 90's and thought he and Andy were the funniest people on late night. Even then, I wondered why he wasn't the host of the tonight show since he was (in my mind) clearly funnier than Jay or Letterman. There is something about him (and Jimmy Fallon) that just seems more earnest and genuine. Like they are/were genuinely happy to be on television, they appreciate the people they work with, and they want to share with the world the things that make them laugh, not just churn out the same old thing. I guess Conan in my mind wasn't one of the usual suspects, the type of person you normally see on TV. He was just funny. His speech last night was touching and his exit last night was funny, poignant, and classy. I'll bet one of the best things about the unfortunate circumstances of the last few weeks for him was the opportunity to hear how many of us thought he was great. It's the closest a person can get perhaps to hearing their own eulogy.

I will say though that Will Ferrell needs to dig deeper, he's becoming a one note song and just isn't funny anymore. He's gone the way of Robin Williams. Both men are probably funny in person but usually painful and tedious to watch on TV. I hate it when you know what's coming. The same shtick. But Conan, since I know you are reading this blog as you have everyday since I started, thanks for working hard and being nice, for making me laugh, for laughing at yourself, for being principled, and for leaving us wanting more. Can't wait to see what you do next.

Baby takes a boat ride

She's so pitiful...

Some other randoms

I love the irony of watching Biggest Loser on the couch with snacks. I also like looking at myself naked after the show. Not too shabby after all.

An elderly black woman told me that God told her what I was thinking when she sauntered past me, appearing to cut in line at the pharmacy counter. She confronted me with it and I admitted, yes I was wondering if she was cutting in line. I'm not sure that's the sort of thing God conveys special messages about. Maybe God gave her the faculty to interpret the look on my and the cashiers face.

I hate the McDonald's commercial where the man keeps telling people not to talk to him before he's had his coffee. I especially want to bitch slap him when he walks into an actual McDonald's and starts in with his 'don't even talk to me before I've had my coffee.' I want them to show what a real cashier at McDonald's does when you get in their line and try to have an attitude with them. I want the girl in the commercial to cut him off and say 'I know you did not just cut me off. You are at MCDONALD's bitch. It's not that serious. You need to learn how to make coffee at home if it makes you suicidal because only someone who wants to die rolls up in here and cuts me off when I am talking. Now what the fuck do you want?'

I have a wake-up buddy and it is awesome. It is so much better to start the day with a friend.

Baloo is cancer free and the prognosis is great. Though she popped 2 stitches and had to go back for staples, she is recovering nicely. I'll put up picture of her with her little lifesaver collar (keeps her away from stitches) when I get around to it.

A thousand calories of awesome

I've got nothing to say (but I'm going to use a lot of words to convey that)

I've got a general funkiness going on of late that really inhibits what I'd like to see going on here or at all w/r/t my writing. It's like trying to get dressed with your clothing cut up like a puzzle, a button here, a sleeve there, a million different threads and no idea if you've even got enough to cover yourself. Holidays, natural attrition, and my sporadic posting have kind of dried up my audience which is all well since I don't really like the space I'm in right now. This post is meant to catch up a bit on current events and as I find the words, describe the space I'm in right now.

New Years:

I'm not sure what my determinations or resolutions will be when and if I make them but I do know that I will do my level best to not spend New Years Eve next year with people I don't really know or like. I don't want to hang out in an inbred group of people who never have anything to talk about but each other, which if they talked about something other than who had sex with whom or the last party they got shit-faced at, might at least be interesting. That's enough of that. I've humored my curiosity of what goes on "out there" on New Years Eve. Last year some random guy danced up on me and then solicited my advice about whether he should cheat on his pregnant wife. This year was a house party. I spent my time with the adorable dog there and had my coat on at 1030 to leave and continued to wear it until we left about 5 minutes after midnight. If my friend had been enjoying herself and not torturing herself over a guy there, I would have left at 1030. I hadn't even bathed that day, that's how into it I was.

New Years day I hopped in the car and drove down to Virginia to meet some old friends. That was a great way to start the year and a nice clear line of demarcation from the night before. We laughed and caught up for hours over dinner. It was great. I spent time with friends and washed my comforter at mom and dad's. :-) Perfect. My parents showed me pictures of my cousin's wedding and for the first time, I was actually very jealous of someone's wedding/marriage. Not because she got married-I have never cared for what I know of her husband and am not sure it was a good decision. I'm jealous because she had the wedding I wanted. Both my parents there, a surprise dance at the reception, everyone dancing and having a good time. My parents were beaming in the pictures and I felt bad because I'm feeling pretty doubtful they will ever have a chance to celebrate my nuptials. I'm not sure how long they will be around. They both have complicated health situations and I want so much for them to be around for it to come full circle, to hold their grandchild. I know intellectually that none of us get assurances of being around even one more second. My sister told me yesterday that a cousin by marriage suffered an aneurysm. He's an in-shape police officer. We just never ever know. So I'm stuck. I don't know whether to take it easy and not force what's on it's way to me (to paraphrase Nikka Costa), or try to make stuff happen.

And then writing. Like age, the thoughts and words to go with them are coming at me faster and evaporating before I can write them down. Before I can turn them around and try to understand them they are gone. And that frustrates me a lot. I have a sense of something slipping through my hands and I don't know if it's even worth mourning or trying to recover. At work I am telling my friends that if I die in the line of work to please ensure no one dare write I died doing what I loved. As I wrote previously, I want people to tell the truth. I don't want my death used as a rallying cry, something for someone else to feel they have to live for or honor in their work. They should do a good job and go home to their family, friends, hobbies. Not wonder at the end of the day if they've done enough in a job that is never ever done. I've let what is urgent eclipse what is important most of my adult life. I've been nearsighted, I've chosen work that I hoped would consume me but also fill me and consistently come up empty. And I don't blame the work, everyone needs a job and I have a good one. I know awesome people. That alone makes the whole thing worth it. But I've been trying to figure out what I'm trying to earn, when will I give myself permission to try my hand at something I really like. Will I be a Frank McCourt and write my first book in my 70's? Did he regret waiting that long to pursue his great love? What am I waiting for?

It is frustrating to be the biggest thing in your way.

A little worse than I thought

She whimpered for most of the afternoon. I know she was uncomfortable but I think she was also still groggy and kind of hurt that I left her there and she had to spend time in a crate. She hasn't had a drop to drink since coming home this afternoon. I just gave her pain pill so now she is resting comfortably but man oh man does it shoot pains through my legs to see her all cut up and stitched like that. I thought it was going to be a much smaller area. Oh my baby dog.